Dark Days
by Psycho-Stories-Unlimited
Summary: An Evra Von short story. Life before the Cirque du Freak
1. Chapter 1: Under My Skin

"Useless!" comes a scream from above me, and I try to scramble out of the way.

The cane leaves a stripe of fire across my back.

I try to muffle my cries and curl up as tight as I can. Still the cane comes down three more times, "Worthless little freak!" he screams drunkenly. "You're not worth the money it takes to keep you, you little-"

The cane comes down again, and my world flashes with pure pain.

"He has to stop soon" I think desperately "he usually stops about this time."

That was just wishful thinking though. Tonight had been a slow night. Fewer customers meant less money, less money meant more stripes. And it was all somehow my fault. Everything was always my fault.

He finally stopped after a few more curses and I stood up gingerly.

I wore a pair of filthy old shorts and nothing else.

"Come here, you" the man grunts and I turn, trembling. I take a couple of hesitant steps forward. What he held in his hand made me shiver even more than the cane.

It's a jar.

The man yanks me forward, opens the jar, and slaps some sort of oil onto my back, sending fresh waves of agony through my raw skin. He rubs it in roughly, and it's all I could do to keep from crying out in pain.

Whatever that stuff was, it worked, and it would heal the wounds or at least make them less obvious. He didn't do it for my sake; the healing cream was just so that some do gooder wouldn't go reporting him to the police. And if there were any marks left over by the next time he put me on display, he could just say I made the marks myself.

When he finishes, he pushes me away roughly and I stumble back. I'm blinded by tears and make my way miserably to my sleeping place.

I stumble over to the water pale, and look down at my reflection. Strange slanted yellow eyes stare back at me. My face is not covered in skin but in scales, and my hair is an odd yellow green color. It's grimy from a long time without washing.

I take a couple of gulps from the tepid water and curl up in my area. I have one tattered blanket. The material is rough and prickly and the fibers rub against the tender flesh of my bruised and battered back. I bury my face in the rough material and hope, as I've hoped for a long time, for a happy crumb of a dream to have with me whenever the nightmares come.


	2. Chapter 2: Behind My Eyes

Chapter 2

Their faces in the glass, looking at me.

_"Freak_!"

I don't say anything,

It only makes the faces press closer, they don't hear my words, they just hear the sounds I make and are surprised that something like me could make noise at all. So they stare, and gape to see something so freakish.

I'm in my tank, unlike the spot where I sleep, the owner keeps my tank clean, with a floor of sand, a few pieces of wood around, and a small water bowl in a corner. It's barely big enough to stand up in so I just curl up at the bottom of it most of the time. There is a lamp that hangs over the tank. Although the tank is spotless I am still not allowed to wash.

"It adds to the effect." The owner says

Each day is the same,

He stands at the entrance to the old building and wares his false smile. For the right amount, people can come and gape at a real freak. The owner invites them to laugh and say horrible things. I try to tune out their words, and pretend that it's only more meaningless noise. Sometimes it even works.

I stare at another group of people leaving the room and the next group coming in. I don't know how much more I can take.

Today is a busier day. He might even forget to curse and shout today.

But that doesn't mean that there is no pain… It just means that today I'm hurting on the inside.

I feel like an old rag. Dirty, used up, ugly-

"Beautiful" says a small voice outside my tank.

A pair of bright green eyes stares back at me.

It's a little girl, no more than 8 or 9, "Beautiful" she says again, "like shiny jewels"

She's pointing at my scales, they are mostly dark green but flecked with random bits of bright yellow and blue.

I stare at her and she stares back, not with fear or loathing like the others, but with lively interest. "Your eyes" she says, "like gold." She pauses, "but why do you look so sad? Is it because you're in that box?" She pauses, then, "if someone put me in a box for people to look at I guess I would be sad too."

"Tricia dear, come away from there." calls a man near the door

The girl turns, and bounces into the arms of the man who stood near the door talking to the owner.

"You know we don't usually allow children here," says the owner.

"Oh it's harmless," says the man genially

The owner still looks like he's about to argue but the girl's father looks like a very wealthy and important man so the owner only keeps his mouth shut watches them leave.

The girl looks back at me with those shiny green eyes and smiles.

I give a small smile back.

That night when I curl up in my corner, that smile followed me down, down into a happy dream.


End file.
